


We miss the things we choose not to see.

by RedStarFiction



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7528636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote the bones of this piece months ago but an open prompt from @heathercat56 (tumblr) reminded me of it. A wee piece mostly from Laoghaire’s perspective about the time she and Jamie spent together prior to Claire’s return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We miss the things we choose not to see.

Laoghaire straightened her back over the washing tub and groaned. She was as unaccustomed to sharing a bed as her new husband and neither had slept well. Either she took the entire blanket in her sleep leaving him cold or he kicked the back of her heels whilst trying to find a comfortable position, his long legs cramped in her small bed. Before the rooster gave his daily call they had both given up and silently dressed and gone their separate ways for the day.  
It shamed her to see him leave for the day without breakfast in his belly nor her kiss on his cheek. She knew what a wife’s duties were and she would have gladly fulfilled them if he would have given her a chance.  
She had noticed a little blood on her underskirts when she used the privy that morning and that made her feel hopeless too. She had never torn with her first husband, not since their wedding night at least, but Jamie was larger and came to her with fire in his eye and a defiance with roots she could not trace and he had been rough until she cried out, then he had cradled her in his arms like a kitten and murmured apologies. Laoghaire had not allowed herself to cry until his breathing evened into a deep, heavy rhythm. That her Jamie, finally her husband, should apologise for using her body for his pleasure … the humiliation of his scorn caught in her throat afresh and she slapped the shirt she had been scrubbing back into the soapy water with a vengeance.  
“Ye think me weak and unfeminine… I’ll show ye weak!”  
She muttered, seizing the garment with renewed vigour and raking it back and forth over the washing board until her knuckles were raw.  
“I intend to wear that shirt again lass.”  
Laoghaire looked up from under her hood and felt her stomach flutter at the sight of Jamie, leaning casually against the fence post, watching her work. How many times had she been out here or even at Leoch and longed to look up into those slanted blue eyes?  
“I ken ye do. It’s why I’m takin’ the trouble to scrub it properly.”  
“Aye, but the way ye are goin’ at it there’ll be nout but threads left!”  
Jamie’s mouth was turned up in a smile but the joke was lost on Laoghaire.  
“It willna loose it’s form, Jamie. I wouldna be sae careless as to let it!”  
“No … No… I only meant that …”  
“It’s the stains in the pits! Ye canna remove them without a bit o’ force and ye do sweat so!”  
Laoghaire couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice. She knew men were more inclined to sweat and she didn’t begrudge it but if he thought she couldn’t even do his laundry …  
“I’m sorry. I dinna like to remove it when I work.”  
Jamie stepped forward and lifted her gently into a standing position, guilt for upsetting her nagging at him yet again.  
“Why?”  
Laoghaire allowed him to take her hands and startled when her question elicited a stronger squeeze than she could call comfortable.  
“My scars, lass.”  
Jamie spoke flatly and let go of her hands. He didn’t wish to be angry with Laoghaire. She had not lived with him long and they were still getting used to each other but he couldn’t help but remember how Claire had understood from the very start what his back meant to him.  
“Oh! Oh! Aye well I can see why they must be a sore embarrassment to ye.”  
Laoghaire beamed at him, eager to show that she understood, desperate to show him she knew his feelings. Jamie frowned and looked down at his feet, hurt.  
“Aye they are.”  
“They needn’t be though!”  
Laoghaire hurried, sensing his change of mood  
“I ken they are wretched ugly things but …”  
“Forgive me Laoghaire, I didna ken they offended ye. Ye needna look at them again.”  
Jamie snapped and before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and stalked back towards the fields.  
“Jamie! Jamie! Dinna forget ye lunch!”  
Laoghaire called but he either couldn’t hear her or didn’t want to. She looked at her murky reflection in the washing tub completely baffled and utterly spent.  
She had forgotten what hard work marriages could be.  
*  
That evening as Marsali and Joan sat at the table with their slate and chalk, Jamie’s deep rumble of instruction floated over to Laoghaire as she darned a pair of Joan’s stockings. She closed her eyes and allowed the unknown words to wash over her. She knew enough French to say hello and ask for bread as there had been a French baker in Leoch for a time and that was the only interaction she had with the man.  
In her mind’s eye a small red haired little boy sat at the table with the girls and his father, she saw him as clearly as she had all those years ago when she first pictured herself as Jamie Fraser’s wife and the family they might raise together.  
He had Laoghaire’s dimpled smile but Jamie’s perfectly blue eyes, the colour of a summer sky and he was bonnie and fierce as they come.  
“Come lass, ye’re for bed.”  
Laoghaire opened her eyes blearily and saw the stockings fall away from her as she was lifted into Jamie’s arms and her arms wrapped around his neck gently.  
“Thank ye.”  
She murmured as he navigated the stairs and carried her to their bed.  
“Ye are sae good wi’ the girls Jamie. Sae kind.”  
Jamie smiled and gently pulled the blanket over her shoulders  
“They’re bonnie lassies. Quick learners too.”  
“Be kind to me too Jamie, please be kind to me.”  
Laoghaire’s eyes were already closing and the plea fell from her lips like a prayer.  
“I’ll try.”  
Jamie whispered, aware that Laoghaire could no longer hear him. A noise from the courtyard distracted him at that exact moment and he crossed to the window to look; and unbeknown to both of them they just missed the most tender moment of their marriage.  
*


End file.
